Penance

She rose with the dawn, or some other similarly poetic bullshit. Well, she got out of bed at dawn. Her run-in with James the day before had her tossing and turning, despite being exhausted from travel and the subsequent shenanigans with the children. She put on her joggers, a tee, and a hoodie and headed to the garden for her morning run. 

At this time of the morning it was chilly outside and mist clung to the ground as if reluctant to give way to the daylight. Obscured by the fog and the last vestiges of night, the statuary gave the garden an otherworldly feel. The magical feeling was banished as soon as she turned on her running music. Late 90s and early Aughts pop music was fantastic to run to but not very...fantastic. She concentrated on her breathing and her pace and tuned everything out until it was just her and the path. 

That lasted for maybe a whole five minutes. While running had been a mostly meditative practice for her in the last several years, the end of her relationship with Penelope and the reappearance of James in her life had left her feeling unsettled and she couldn’t help how her mind wandered back over the last ten years. 

***

She grieved the end of her relationship-that-wasn’t with the Priest and did a fair bit of wallowing. While her heart had been broken before, it was never because of a lover. Mum’s death broke her heart. Then Boo’s. Dad choosing Godmother over her - heartbreaking, but not unexpected. Claire choosing Martin over her - that had fucked her up so badly it took nearly a year to get over. She had fallen so fast and so hard for James that she didn’t even realize she was properly in love until he rejected her at the bus stop. The first time. Then, before she could really even come to terms with it, he was gone and she was left with a broken heart that caught her as completely by surprise as Boo’s death and Claire’s abandonment had. But James’ loss was different because he had actually seen her. Seen her and loved her but found her wanting enough that he chose his imaginary friend over her. She knew that she was being unfair, but fuck it, she had learned through truly staggering amounts of therapy that if she didn’t stick up for herself, no one would. Not in any way that mattered. And it started with the self-talk in her head.

But, she picked herself up, dusted herself off, and got on with it. She dated here and there. Even had sex on occasion, though therapy helped her limit it to instances where actual feelings were involved. Mostly. She made exceptions when the date was exceptionally hot. She and Belinda went out when the latter was in town for business. Belinda started mentoring Emma and introducing her to other small business owners that she knew. Slowly, she started to make real, actual friends. No one like Boo, of course, but people who did actually care about her.  And, surprisingly, she cared about them, too. 

She met Darius during one of her veg trips to the Farmer’s Market. He was an artist working in acrylics and clay and several of his works caught her eye when she passed his booth. They started talking and she found that he was funny and quick and my god! the abs on that man. They dated for an entire year before they both realized that, while they absolutely did adore one another, they weren’t going to make it as a long term couple. They had each kept their own flats - which should have been a clue - so it was really just a matter of trading back what they had left at the other’s. He was still a close friend and, to her never-ending delight, loathed her Godmother nearly as much as she did. She brought him to all Godmother’s exhibitions just to have someone to snark about them with. 

There were several people after Darius. Some lasted months and some just a few dates. And then a gorgeous blonde with the most fascinating green eyes she’d ever seen came into the café and ordered the sweetest, most vile coffee concoction on the menu and she was utterly smitten. Penelope did carpentry and interior design. She was sunshine to Emma’s cynicism but never in an annoying way. She genuinely liked people and would spend weeks getting to know someone before creating a design for them, whether she was crafting a small side table or planning their entire home. Penelope threw her whole heart into everything she did and brought Emma along for the ride. Plus, the sex was...so good. So fucking phenomenally good. 

Her entire family adored Penny and even Godmother could find no fault with her, though she did often marvel that Emma managed to catch a spirit as bright and attractive as Penelope’s (her words). For five years she was the happiest she had ever been. So of course it couldn’t last. 

They were talking about buying a place together. Somewhere with enough space for Pen to have a workshop and Emma to have a true home office now that she was expanding Hilary’s to a second location. Penelope mentioned she’d like a large garden for their children and the discussion came to a screeching halt. Emma was adamant that she didn’t want children. She loved her nieces and nephews but had no desire for any of her own, biological or otherwise. Penelope had assumed that Emma would want children since she absolutely doted on Claire’s. They talked and argued and made up and argued more and in the end it was a dealbreaker. Penelope wanted children and Emma didn’t and there was no getting around it, no matter how much they loved each other. 

They had split months ago but she hadn’t told her family. She didn’t want her Godmother’s weaponized pity or Claire’s concern. She had grieved in her own, much more well-adjusted now, thank you! way and was getting on with it. Again. And then the Priest showed up. 

***

The last strains of Britney’s Toxic were playing as she made the sharp final corner on her way back to the house and ran into someone running in the opposite direction. Luckily she was at her cool down pace and they weren’t going that fast, but something - elbow? shoulder maybe? - cracked her in the nose and she dropped to her knees seeing stars. When she finally stopped gasping for breath she looked over and saw that her partner in disaster was (of course it was!) James. He was clutching his eye and trying to walk off the pain. She pulled her hands away from her face and had to laugh when she saw blood. 

“Christ!  Are you okay?” He staggered over and offered her a hand up. 

She waved him away, displaying the crimson rivulets dripping down her arms as explanation. “Fine. It’s fine. I’m fine. Really.”

“Are you sure? That’s a lot of blood. Just let me…”

“No, it’s fine, really. This beak of mine is used to it by now. The déjà vu is a little much, though.”

His chuckle was interrupted by the sound of the Horde approaching. 

Her nieces and nephews rounded the corner, took one look at him standing over her bleeding form and their joy turned instantaneously to protective menace. 

“What have you done to Aunt E?!!” She’s not sure who shouted it, Cade maybe? but the next thing she knew was that the children swarmed James, tiny hands punching and little feet kicking any spot they could reach. The Priest was doing his best to ward them off without hurting them, but it was obvious the superior numbers were going to win. 

“Whoa! Whoa! It’s not his fault guys! It was an accident.”  She had to yell several times before they heard her, their outrage over the perceived attack drowning out anything to the contrary. 

Clarice turned to her, breathless. “But you’re bleeding. And he was standing over you.”

“We just ran into each other coming around the corner and he accidentally hit my nose. That’s all.”

Clarice looked doubtful until Cade piped up, “Oh yeah! Remember when she was holding baby Arlo and he kicked her in the face and her nose went pshhhhhh and blood went everywhere? It. Was. Brilliant!” He enthusiastically mimed what could only be interpreted as a fire hose discharging.

Isla didn’t look convinced and continued to eye the Priest with suspicion. 

“It really was an accident. I’m going to go clean up. You okay Father?” 

“Not…”

She didn’t wait for him to finish. “Brilliant! Come on ruffians. Race you to the back door!”

***

An ice pack, acetaminophen tablets, and a cool shower helped her aching nose immensely. Thankfully, there looked to be no bruising yet, so there should be no embarrassing explanations at the wedding. 

After she dressed and had a quick breakfast, she borrowed the children for a little adventure by a stream that was an easy walking distance from the house. Ostensibly this was to keep them out from under foot while the wedding preparations were happening. In reality… Well, she wouldn’t say that she was avoiding James, exactly. Just that she wasn’t prepared to have another one-on-one conversation with him until...later. Sometime. Much later. Sometime. 

Her plan backfired spectacularly when the children abandoned her to stampede through the woods back to the house, chasing after a local dog, and James appeared at the end of the path back, face lighting up with purpose as soon as he spotted her. 

Bollocks.